Hogwarts
by ASF13957
Summary: A selection of scenes throughout Tom Riddle's life, all of which concern Hogwarts.  Please R&R.


The genres for this story really, _really _don't fit, but they were the best ones available.

Temporal Explanation: It's all over the place.

Rating: K+ for some non-graphic violence, and non-graphic death.

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own the rights to Harry Potter-specific locations, characters, terms, etc.

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The first time he saw it, from a boat on the black lake, he thought of it as a fantasy. The castle, Hogwarts, towered over the dark waters like something out of a fairytale. To Tom, it symbolized and summarized the world he was entering, a world that, while new to him, was older than even the stones of the castle rising before him. Hogwarts was dark, mysterious, intimidatingly unknown, but at the same time it glinted with lights, the windows bright and shining with irresistible promise. As the boats drifted in to shore, and Tom, with the other students, walked closer to the doors of the castle, he felt no hesitation. Although he had never been here before, had never even seen pictures of this marvelous place, he felt a greater sense of belonging than had ever been present at the orphanage. The doors opened, and Tom stepped forward into Hogwarts and a new beginning.

In his fifth year, as he searched for the entrance to a forgotten chamber created a thousand years in the past, he thought of it as a puzzle – endlessly intriguing, full of infinite details and secrets, many of which he alone had discovered. He felt no need to share his knowledge of the castle's hidden facets with anyone. He deemed no one worthy enough, close enough to tell; these were secrets between him and Hogwarts, and just as the stones of the castle would never speak of them, neither would he. He found the chamber and unleashed the creature within it, purging the castle's intricate maze of corridors, freeing them from the mudblood taint that infected them like a disease.

In his sixth and seventh years, while he studied magic both in class and on his own, seeking out dusty tomes filled with the secrets of dark magic, he thought of it as a training ground. Here, he could practice and perfect his skills in the magical arts, until he was finally ready to take on the world in his search for immortality. Outside the castle the twisted subjects of his research, such as the horcruxes he had already begun to accumulate, and his interest in the darker side of wizardry could not remain unnoticed; but within the many hidden rooms of Hogwarts, he could continue his studies while maintaining the charming, charismatic image he had worked so hard to create.

Later, when he returned to request appointment to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he thought of it as a potential base. He concealed one precious fragment of his divided soul within a room there, certain that no one would ever find it, that no one else knew the secrets of Hogwarts as he did. In addition to the ulterior motive of remaining close to the horcrux, he also sincerely hoped to gain the teaching job. He had no desire to impart any of his prodigious knowledge to future generations, but the position would mean he could remain at the castle, the one place he knew better than any other. Unfortunately, Dippet would not give him the job. He was certain that Dumbledore was behind the headmaster's refusal; through all Tom's years at Hogwarts, the Transfiguration teacher had seemed somehow suspicious of him.

Throughout his years outside the school, gathering followers, fighting a war, and existing as a bodiless spectre, he thought of it as a distant goal. He had many objectives in his campaign against the current state of the wizarding world; stamping out muggle-borns, establishing himself in a position of power, and attaining that elusive goal, immortality were only a few. The objectives changed as years went by, but one which always remained was to return to Hogwarts. Tom imagined that once he had achieved immortality and was firmly in control of the new order of the wizarding world, he would use the castle as a sort of government headquarters. From Hogwarts, he would enforce his rule and direct the operation of the world, deciding when there would be war and when there would be peace, as if he were both players in a great game of chess that covered the entire world.

During the final, decisive battle, he thought of it as a stage. Here, at Hogwarts, he and Potter and their respective armies would decide what course of fate magical society would follow. He was certain that in pitched battle he and his allies would easily overcome Potter's comrades, but he did not take advantage of this martial superiority. Instead, he gave Potter a chance to come out and face him alone; he gave his reason as a desire not to unnecessarily spill pure blood, but inwardly he knew there was another motivation. Tom could not care less about how much blood was spilt, how many lives were lost, but if he attacked directly there was every chance that Hogwarts would be damaged; his enemies were using the castle as their fortress, and his own followers would not hesitate to destroy it to get at Potter and the other opponents. Better that the castle remain intact, a splendid backdrop for his eventual victory.

At last, he and Potter circled one another in the Great Hall, each waiting for the other to cast the spell that would end both the duel and the conflict that had endured for seventeen years. Potter presented some theory about the Elder Wand, claiming it would not harm him, but Tom did not heed his words. He had gone too far now to turn back, even had he wanted to, and he refused to feel the remorse Potter advised. He had never felt remorse, just as he had never felt love, Potter's favorite topic of conversation, for anything at all – except, perhaps, the very building within which he now stood. He raised the Elder Wand and cast _Avada Kedavra_, hearing Potter yell his own spell at the same time. The killing curse rebounded; against all expectation, the Boy Who Lived had been correct, and now he, the Dark Lord, who had come so close to immortality, could do nothing to escape the fate he'd fled for so long. Tom's last thought, as the curse struck him, was that if he had to die, he was glad he would die here, in Hogwarts – in the place he thought of as home.

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The End. It was short, I know, and possibly a little corny, but I only wrote it because I'm in the middle of a longer story right now and felt the need to publish _something_. Anyway, please review, you know the deal, and thanks very much for reading.


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